Colors
by KTEW
Summary: Futurefic. They haven't had new clothes in... well, a while. So when they find a group of ridiculously rich Azulons, they come up with an idea. And Honey and Cinnamon find out some interesting things about their tastes in colors. OC-centric, foreshadowing


"Oh, what NOW!" I yelled, actually starting to jump up and down. "Take that, Azulons! Hell to the yes!"

"Honey!" Cinnamon scolded, dropping down next to me.

"I am sorry, Mother," I grumbled, folding my arms.

I ran towards Jet. "Well? How'd I do?" I was 12 and it was the first time anyone had let me join a raid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Longshot drop down.

"Hang on," he muttered. He glanced up from inventory – or down, I should say. I was only 4'11", as opposed to the 18 year old's 6'1".

"Good for a first run," he said.

I pursed my lips. "Is that really a compliment?"

He smiled. "Well, you were better than Bee's first time."

I looked over at her, who had overheard at least the last sentence of our conversation and was currently walking over with her arms folded across her chest, scowling.

"Yes," she said, stopping next to me, "but you might note that it's easier to fight with ten other kids than fighting the same amount of soldiers alone with your only ally sitting in the tree above you, criticizing you."

He opened his mouth for an obvious witty comment, but wound up saying, "Okay, fair enough."

Bee smirked. She hadn't grown much over the last couple of years. Maybe a couple inches, and she'd filled out a bit, but not much.

"Jet!" The Duke yelled.

We turned. He was leaning over one of the soldiers, profile toward us. He'd finally grown into that still annoying helmet of his. And now he actually looked older than me. He looked up and smiled, holding up a heavy-looking, if relatively small, pouch.

"Jackpot."

I ran over. "How much?"

He stood up. "A good five pounds. I'd say about a hundred pieces. All gold."

Yeah, we weren't really in the whole "Kill the Fire Nation Because They Hurt Us" business any more. We took in kids who didn't have anyone else to take care of them.

Oh, those soldiers we brutally murdered? Not Fire Nation soldiers – well, not technically. The war's over, remember? But there were still people who thought Ozai and Azula were right. The Azulons. Bug and Bubbles came up with the name.

We needed the money for renovations. We were filling up fast. There weren't many Azulons, but they were good. We killed however many we could, but tried not to be too radical. The gaang took care of any we left, but they appreciated the help.

Anyways, yeah, a hundred gold pieces was a lot of money. A LOT of money.

"I got another one!" another voice yelled. Mouse, the recovering demon, was holding up another bag, at least the size of The Duke's.

He loosened the drawstring and looked inside. "All gold!" he yelled back.

I beamed.

"Uh, guys?" Panda and Crossbones were leaning over another body, with Pip hovering above them. Panda was holding another bag. "All gold, too."

I ran back over to Bee, who had drifted toward Panda, slightly awestruck.

"These are some ****ing rich soldiers," she muttered. (Cinnamon's making me censor this.)

"Bee!" Cinnamon complained.

Bee whipped around. This happened way too often. "I am older than you! You do not get to do that!"

I held back a sigh and slid in front of the older, if very slightly shorter, girl.

"So, this is a LOT of money," I said like someone trying to sell something.

Bee looked at me weird.

I cut right to the chase. "Can I get my own room?"

"Hey!" said a very offended voice in the background. I ignored it and fluttered my eyelashes.

Bee looked entertained. "I have a better idea," she muttered. She looked up at Jet.

"How much do we already have?" she said.

He shrugged. "About five hundred copper, two hundred silver, and fifty gold, why?"

Bee thought for a split second. "You said we'd only need about eighty five more gold pieces to build the next two platforms, right?"

"Only?" he muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, if each of these has about a hundred, that leaves us with, what, two hundred fifteen?"

"Bee, where are you going with this?" Sneers said, walking up, surprisingly serious.

Bee sighed. "Jet, look around. None of us have had new clothes in at least three years. I think we've spent more to patch us up that it would've cost for new outfits."

Jet seemed to be considering it, but then said, "Bee, even that's not enough to get around a hundred and twenty kids new clothes."

"Wait, Jet," Cinnamon said. She was kneeling next to another one of the bodies, holding up another bag. "All gold."

Jet folded his arms across his chest. "It's still not enough."

"Well, I've kinda been saving up for one," I said quietly.

He looked at me, surprised. "How much do you have?"

"Twenty-eight silver pieces," I said just a little louder, looking up at him. "Cinnamon has another thirty."

"Eh heh," she muttered, looking away.

He shrugged. "That's about a shirt each. Getting closer, I guess. But it's still not enough."

Bee scowled. "Do you know how worn out some of our outfits are? Whistle came in looking like a wreck, thanks to her dad. How do you think the last two years worked out for her? A lot of people have been saving up money, you know. _I'm_ so desperate I'm thinking of taking up Tails' offer to sew me new pants." She tugged gently on one of the patches – which were everywhere. As if the lake thing hadn't done enough, over the last couple years she'd led more than half the raids and had been training so hard that once she collapsed. "And look at Honey. Over the past few years she's grown at least six inches, and at her age…" she trailed off, lightly gesturing to my almost-non-existent curves.

"It's gonna be winter soon, too, Jet," I said. I hated cold. So much.

He sighed. "I can do… about two and a half pieces per kid. Let's hope most of what they had was silver and copper, because I'll have to transfer."

Bee nodded.

Jet looked at the boys. "Grab anything valuable and meet us at the Hideout. The girls and I have some planning to do."

In short, the next day, basically everyone wound up in town, with five kids keeping guard until we came back. And, thanks to Jet's transfer system, I now had eight gold pieces in my hand.

I looked up at Cinnamon and Bee, both walking to my left. I'd honestly never been shopping for clothes. I'd found my shirt in the forest, Flower had sewn my pants and used the fur from my old pair, and Cinnamon had bought my boots.

"C'mon, you guys," Bee said, leading us into a – relatively small, I guess – store.

"Wow," I whispered. The store was small, sure, but the selection wasn't. Since the end of the war, the little town had grown quite a bit. There were a lot of refugees, and here they could actually make a better life. So they had clothes in all different styles and colors, for each of the four nations. I say four because while Aang might've been the last airbender – for the next few years, anyway – he wasn't the last Air Nomad.

And, for some reason, I automatically drifted toward the second smallest section. The Fire Nation styles.

"Hm…" I muttered, looking at a light tunic in burgundy. I shook my head. "Winter. Winter, winter, winter…" I whispered, drifting a bit closer to the Water Tribe styles, where the red blended into purple.

I looked at a nice, dark purple, long-sleeved shirt with a little fur trim and the _actual_ Water Tribe symbol on the chest, as opposed to a backwards version of the Northern Tribe's. It was a gold piece and two silver pieces. I could afford that. I took one off the small stack and put it over my arm.

I glanced over at Cinnamon, who was between the Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom. I walked over to her.

"What'cha looking at?" I asked.

She shrugged. "What do you think of this?" she asked, holding up a pair of not-quite-heavy, light aqua pants more my size.

I shrugged back. "Sure, if they have them in your size."

She nodded and looked back through everything.

I drifted back to where I was. I wound up finding a suitably heavy violet pair of pants and almost-black boots, putting me at almost six gold pieces. And I still needed to find a good coat.

I drifted closer to the blue, looking for something heavy enough. I glanced back at Cinnamon. Just as I thought, her pieces were all shades of blue-green. Which was kinda funny, looking at our current outfits. Mine was all blue and white and hers was dark blue and purple.

I chuckled softly and looked down to see the perfect coat, in the perfect color. But it was three gold pieces.

I pursed my lips. "Hey, Cinnamon?" I called softly across the store.

"Yeah?" she said, walking over.

"How much do you have left?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I guess about a piece and a half. Why?"

"Can I have a piece?" I asked hopefully.

She sighed, smiling. "Fine." She shifted her – very small – pile of clothes under her arm, fished a piece out of her pocket, and handed it to me.

I smiled. "Thanks."

She rolled her eyes, still smiling, and walked toward the only table in the room.

The woman at it looked up at her and smiled. She had long, dark brown hair, relatively pale skin, and light-ish brown eyes, and was wearing a large light green hat with a darker green band around the middle, a way-too-big, multi-shaded green tunic, and an also way-too-big white dress with light green cuffs and the same color hem.

"Hello," she said, smiling. "I'm Ying. And you?"

"Cinnamon," she said, sweeping her hair behind her left ear. It must've shown her burn, because Ying's eyes went wide.

"What happened to your neck?" she asked, shocked.

Cinnamon shrugged. "I have no idea."

I came up next to her with an uneasy smile. The woman's eyes landed on my right cheek and got wider.

"Amnesia," I said softly, tapping Cinnamon's temple.

"Wow," Ying said softly. She looked down and checked the price of each piece of clothing. "Six gold pieces, two silver."

Cinnamon handed her the seven pieces. She unlocked a small box on the table, placed them in, fished out three silver pieces, and handed them to her.

Cinnamon smiled and took them and her clothes. "Thanks."

Ying nodded, smiling softly.

I put mine down. "I'm Honey."

"Are you two Freedom Fighters?" she asked, making the connection on the names.

I nodded.

She smiled a little more, and checked the price on everything. "Eight gold, four silver," she said. I handed my nine gold pieces to her, and she gave me a silver back.

The two of us started walking away.

"Bye!" a tiny voice said. I glanced back and saw a very small girl sitting on the floor next to Ying's chair.

"Bye," I said softly, waving.

We walked outside.

"Hey, Cinnamon?" I said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Did you notice we're starting to look around the same age?" I said thoughtfully. I wasn't kidding. There was a height difference, but as far as the face went…

She looked thoughtful. "Yeah. I guess we are."

"Maybe we're closer in age than we think," I said, chuckling lightly.

But Cinnamon looked like I'd tapped a memory.

"Maybe…"


End file.
